


The End Of A Storm

by hopeinyourheart



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, LFC, Liverpool, Liverpool F.C., Lots of cuddles, M/M, basically just a shitload of feelings and tears and hugs, cus we all need comfort after that terrible match, just the 17/18 lfc squad tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:55:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeinyourheart/pseuds/hopeinyourheart
Summary: Feeling victory was imprinted in his veins, feeling loss was imprinted into his mind.





	The End Of A Storm

**Author's Note:**

> i got this idea after the god awful city match and then i had to write it and this happened, can be read as slash or gen doesn't matter really. i just wanted to explore feelings and forms of comfort, the pairings make sense to me because most of them have very good friendships so yh...

They head back to the hotel in silence.  

The day started of bright and warm even though it was raining. For the people of Manchester, it was brighter than ever; for the twenty-two red men who travelled here, it was anything but.  

The bus is silent and melancholy. Most of the lads are inconsolable, Hendo observes as he enters the bus. The curtains are pulled shut causing the bus to be subdued in darkness. There is no chatter or music, just darkness and silence. A reflection of everyone's mood right now. 

He heads through the bus quietly. Sadio is silently sobbing into Mo's shoulder while Mo rubs his back,  head titled against the headrest trying to hide tears of his own. Hendo pats Sadio on the shoulder hoping that it portrays support and love. The entire team was at fault today, Hendo doesn’t think one man should shoulder all the blame. He sees Bobby and Alberto sat together, just staring into blank space which is so unlike them. Hendo's used to their loud chatter and music and contagious laughter, he hates seeing them like this.  

He walks through the bus and sees Dom and Joe holding hands and cuddling, while Joe wipes away some tears and sees James sat with Trent. Hendo is glad for that because even though its his captain-ly duty to take care of the team he doesn’t have the patience or the words right now. He's glad that James has stepped up for him in the meantime. 

Right now he just wants to close his eyes and not feel so much pain. The last time the team was this down was after the defeat to Sevilla in the final. It feels almost as bad as that, Hendo thinks. He walks past a grumpy Emre who's being consoled by Loris. Hendo's glad Emre has someone like Loris who understands him and gets him emotionally because most of time Hendo feels like he can't reach him. It's different with Emre because he won't show his emotions as clearly as some of the younger lads and it leaves Hendo worrying that he isn't ok. Loris seems to understand though and Hendo is grateful that he takes care of him properly.  

He keeps walking until he reaches the back of the bus where he sits down heavily and sighs. He leans his head back and wishes for a start over, wishes the day never started, wishes this was all just a dream. Someone places a hand on his knee(Hendo would know that touch anywhere) and he slowly turns his head and opens his eyes. Adam looks at him and suddenly Jordan wants to burst out crying, because he let them down, they lost five nil and he couldn’t do anything about it. He wants to apologise but he knows Adam won't listen so he leans his head on his shoulder and feels Adam put an arm around his back. He breathes out slowly for the first time since the start of the match and waits for the bus to reach the hotel. 

* 

Adam understands. Adam has played enough to understand losses but watching from the sidelines was worse. Not being out there on the pitch, helping his team, hurt just as much as seeing them fall apart. He misses being on the pitch and the ball under his boots. He watched the team silently today, tried to cheer them on, wished for the final whistle too many times.

This didn't look like his team. Didn’t look like Liverpool football club . 

Adam looks at Hendo and knows he wants to cry but that he won't because of his need to be strong and stay captainly. His experience from being captain gives him insight to Hendo's mind. But he also wants Jordan to know that he doesn’t have to do that right now, that most of the lads have each other and Mils has got the youngsters.  There's no words to say right now,so Adam holds Jordan and tries to portray comfort as best as he can, tries to let Jordan know he doesn’t have to be a captain, that he can be just a player with no duties and too many emotions, that Adam has him and things are going to be ok.  

* 

Sadio sits in the locker room in complete shock. 

He doesn’t move or speak. The lads all come in at half time and he barely acknowledges them. He thinks Kloppo says something to him but he can’t take it in. He cannot process a single thing and his mind is blank. He doesn’t understand what happened or how. It was all a blur. One minute he was running, the next he was clattering to the ground and then there was a red card.  

A trainer walks in and says something to him, Sadio doesn’t hear him either. The lads all come back and neither of them say a word. He doesn’t know what happened after he got sent off, he didn’t watch the rest of the game. He was still stuck in shocked silence. Everything is eerily silent in a way it shouldn’t be after a match day so he looks up and all he sees is melancholy faces, he doesn’t want to know what happened but he still asks.  

Simon tells him they lost five nil. Sadio feels even worse than before. 

He hears Simon throw his gloves into his locker and it reverberates around the room; the only sound in the silence. 

Five nil, they weren't supposed to lose, not like this, not this bad. Little flashes of what happened come back to him, he never meant to hurt anyone, he never meant to do that, he hates so much that he hurt someone. He hates even more that he let the team down. He hates that its his fault the team suffered like this. He wants to change it, to apologise, to wish this day never happened. He wants to know if the goalkeeper is ok, he wants so many things to change.  

Tears well up in his eyes but he doesn’t let them fall, not yet, not here. He heads to the showers, changes and packs up. He wants so badly to say something, to ask them to forgive him, to say sorry for screwing up but he can't find the words and he can/t find his voice and he feels like he's choking on air.  

Mo comes over to him. He doesn’t say a word, Sadio doesn’t really know if he can respond because there isn't enough air in his lungs and his throat is tight and his eyes are heavy with tears. The bus is dark when they enter, he's glad for it because he thinks the light would burn his eyes and he's hurting enough already. Mo takes the window seat, he always takes the window seat and Sadio always lets him (he’s more likely to wander off and chat with the others, plus Mo likes the view).They sit down and Mo has this sadness in his eyes. A sadness that should never be there. Mo is always smiling no matter the circumstances. Seeing him sad makes Sadio's chest hurt even more because the only emotion that should ever be in Mo's eyes is happiness.  

Mo hasn’t been here long but Sadio has never seen him look like this and he despises it. Seeing it makes the held back tears fall from his eyes and his chest breaks open, so he digs his face into Mo's shoulder and cries. Mo holds him and rubs his back and Sadio is glad for his comfort, even though he feels like he doesn’t deserve it.  

Sadio silently cries all the way back to the hotel whilst Mo tries not to break down and they both try to breathe through the pain slowly.  

* 

Emre walks off the pitch angrily. He wants to kick something. He wants to scream. He wants to punch a wall. He wants to do anything but feel like this.  

He doesn’t head straight to the changing room like the rest of the lads. He heads down a hallway away from everyone, finds a closet full of cleaning products and shuts the door. Emre has to find the urge not to knock things over or scream because he really wants too, but he kicks against the shelving a few times and grips the metal way too tightly, until his knuckles go white. He leans his forehead against the metal and it's cool where his skin is burning and he tries to breathe but there isn't enough air.  He wants to tear through something until the anger subsides. He doesn’t want to feel the sadness or the pain because the last time he felt like this he nearly fell apart and dammit if he goes through that again. Crying on the pitch that night was probably the worst he's ever felt and this was a close second. 

The door opens and he fears he's going to be in big trouble for damaging a shelving unit and wondering off but he can’t find enough strength to care. Scuffing his boots against the metal is the only thing on his mind at this moment; he doesn't care who it is or what they want. Moping and being angry is the only thing he feels capable of.  

Whoever walked in doesn’t make an attempt to talk to him, neither do they move from door. They just stand there and wait and Emre knows it's the only person who's patient enough to wait out his frustration and not pester him. He doesn’t turn around until his anger has turned to hurt and his heart is beating too heavily.  

He's not going to cry.  

When Emre turns around Loris is leaning against the back of the door casually.  Loris doesn’t talk, doesn’t ask him why he wondered off or what he's doing. He waits for Emre to calm down and regain his composure before he comes over and gives Emre a hug. It's not too tight which Emre is glad for because he already feels like he's drowning but Loris is comforting and Emre is glad for it. 

Emre didn’t know he needed comforting in the form of physical contact until Loris puts his arms around his waist and places his head in his neck and Emre just feels him breathe and manages to bring his own arms around Loris' back. Loris pulls away a second too soon and then he leads Emre back to the locker room. Most of the lads are done so Emre showers in silence and thinks about the game. Thinks about how he didn’t do enough, how he should have done more, how he let the team down.  

He wants to apologise, to say sorry to tell them he'll do more. The result was suffocating and the hot water is making it even harder to breathe, he realises as he tries to scrub the result out of his skin, but its stuck in his mind and he can’t get rid of it.  

When he comes out, Loris is waiting for him. He dresses and they head to the bus together. They sit down heavily . Emre is numb and grumpy and he'd do anything to not feel like this. To not hear the silence of the bus or feel so empty and upset. He knows the team will be better, that there is a new match around the corner, that they can rectify this, but right now, they are all hurting and there isn't much to do but comfort each other to help with the pain. 

Emre curls up in his seat against Loris. He twists his head into Loris' neck and places a hand on Loris' chest and tries to breathe in time with his heartbeat, whilst Loris runs long fingers through his hair. It makes Emre feel good, better somehow. Emre is glad for Loris because he seems to understand him even better than Emre understands himself. He seems to know what to do when he's upset and when to wait it out and what to say at the right time. Loris hasn’t said anything yet because Emre knows that he will dismiss all his words, but later when things aren't so intense and after Emre has let out a few tears, Loris will say ‘ _it wasn’t your fault_ _Emre_ _”_ and _“_ _we have another game to look forward too_ _”_ and _“_ _you did your best_ _Em_ _”,_ and Emre will believe him because he somehow, always sounds sincere. 

Emre looks up at Loris and his eyes don't look as blue or bright as usual. It isn't a nice sight. Emre hates it. But then Loris smiles down at him and that  _was_  a nice sight. Totally beat the sight of watching the ball hit the back of the wrong net he ponders pitifully. 

The blonde pulls out his earphones  and watching the task of him trying to untangle them takes Emre's mind of things. Loris plugs them in and gives one to Emre and the music makes him feel like home and reminds him of Germany. It’s a welcomed distraction.  

Emre doesn’t know what he would do with without Loris,(he would probably be still trying to ruin a metal shelving cabinet, Emre thinks) as he doses off with lips pressed against his forehead and a steady heartbeat beneath his palm. 

* 

 _Well that most_ _definitely_ _cancels out the euphoria of winning the world cup_ , Dom jokes to himself as he sits in the locker room. For all the time he's been here he's never seen the team look this fallen. 

He never wants to experience it again. 

It's silent for the most part, he hears Sadio and Simon whispering to each other and then a thud from something hitting the back of the locker but it's mainly quiet. Most of the lads have headed to the shower but Dom sits as his locker for a while, throws his kit in the basket to be washed, packs some of his stuff up. Its mundane and easy and slow paced, such a contrast from twenty minutes ago when everything was falling apart in front of his eyes and the world felt like it was burning. He couldn’t do anything to help the team even though it was expected of him, he got his time and he still let the manager down.  

He likes the mundane tasks, it eases his mind off of the result. Folding tshirts is easier to think about then replaying a goal that's been scored against you over and over again. Dom likes the easiness of not thinking, of doing rather than contemplating and stressing for hours; like scoring goals with the ease of feeling the ball under his feet instead of thinking about tackles and passes. He likes being a striker, likes the feel of the back of net,of not thinking, just doing. 

Of feeling.  

Feeling victory was imprinted in his veins after this summer, feeling loss was imprinted into his mind after today. He knows which one he never wants to feel again.  

He showers and dresses and heads to the bus. Dom doesn’t really feel like sitting alone and he doesn’t have too when he sees Joe towards the back, head down, hood pulled over his head, staring at the ground. Joe doesn’t move when Dom sits beside him, barely breathes, Dom observes as he tilts his head against the back of the seat in Joe's direction. Dom doesn’t know what to say so he reaches down between them and laces his fingers with Joes. Joe tightens his hand around Dom's fingers and holds on like Dom is his life line 

A few tears spill down Joe's cheek and he wipes them away with the sleeve of his jumper. Dom wishes he could have scored, just so it could have been something, so he could say to Joe that they had something. Maybe he would have dedicated it to him, maybe it would have eased the pain like some sort of consolation prize. Maybe it would do nothing but what he does know is that he never wants to see Joe in pain again. Joe doesn’t look at him and Dom is grateful because the thought of seeing those innocent, puppy dog eyes full of tears pulls at his heart and makes it hurt.  

Dom doesn’t have a goal to dedicate to Joe to make him feel better and neither of them have anything to say, words are probably pointless right now, so Dom holds his hand and squeezes his fingers and they both try to breathe. 

* 

The bus reaches the hotel and they all get off and head into the hotel. 

Kloppo stands back and watches them as they all head to their rooms, half leaning against each other. He gives them an hour before he calls a meeting in a private room and apologies for the entire day and the result and the way they are feeling because he knows they tried hard and he knows they understand that they all made mistakes and he knows that they are all beating themselves up about this.  

As their manager its his job to take responsibility, to make them feel better to teach them and make them better. This was one result and it was hard and awful but they head back to Liverpool soon, and tomorrow is another day at Melwood. Another training session and new tactics and another chance. A fresh start and it would be OK. He knows they all want to say sorry, apologise for individual mistakes. He also knows they are all blaming themselves, but they are his team and he's to blame too.

So he will take some of that pressure off their shoulders because that’s his job and it's also his job to gather them up and keep them going and get them a different result; a better result. Loss was a part of growth and feeling the impact of it was part  of life and they had the rest of today to dwell on it but with growth comes new times and new times can always bring better situations.  They are a family here and maybe they aren't OK at this minute but he knows for sure that they will be.

It's football; everything was always ok at the end of a storm and if it wasn’t, well it was in their hands to change it.

**Author's Note:**

> i just had to write something comforting after the horrors of that result and well this happened. i wanted to get them all as different people who deal with things in different ways, i don't how well it happened  
> also ive never written most of these people and ive never written anything in this style so tell me how it feels.
> 
> i hope u liked it and thanks for reading xx


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